


Where Do We Go Now?

by chaleesi



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Canon Universe, Developing Relationship, F/F, First Date, Getting Together, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-01
Updated: 2019-04-01
Packaged: 2019-12-27 00:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18293567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaleesi/pseuds/chaleesi
Summary: “If you’re gonna be annoying and follow me around, the least you can do is buy me dinner."“Okay.”Izzy buys Maia dinner. Maybe it's a date?





	Where Do We Go Now?

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't posted a fic in like 6 years, but I think about girls and shadowhunters and girls liking girls a lot, and now here we are and I'm proud of myself tbh. No beta.

In the end it hadn’t even come to a fight. Rogue werewolves out of control somewhere in the city usually meant one was inevitable, but not this time. Luke had diffused the situation quickly, the wolves open to listening, and everything was over much faster than they had thought it would be. No one had even transformed. The Shadowhunters –getting involved in everyone’s business as always – had surprisingly hung back, watching as everything was settled.  
  
Maia couldn’t help but be kind of disappointed.  
  
It’s not like she had wanted things to go badly, but she had geared herself up for some violence, and now there was nothing. No outlet for all the energy she had pent up underneath her skin. She felt like she was on the verge of transforming, like her very muscles and bones didn’t want to be contained any more. Almost twenty-four hours of apprehension and no sleep, and now this. She really wanted to punch something.  
  
She settled for kicking an empty plastic crate against the wall.  
  
“Are you okay?”  
  
_Shit_. Isabelle Lightwood was still there.  
  
Once the rogue wolves had gone with Luke, Alec, and some of the pack into the nearby warehouse, everyone else had headed on home. But Maia had lingered, restless. And Isabelle had stayed too.  
  
“I’m great.” Her tone is a little aggressive, but Isabelle merely looks at her with her eyebrows raised and her red lips turned up slightly.  
  
Maia shrugs at her, trying to use her expression as best she can to say ‘what do you care if I’m okay or not and anyway I don’t have to tell you shit’. And then she turns and walks off.  
  
The clack of heels against concrete follows her.  
  
She makes it onto the street of shuttered shops and lasts ten seconds before she asks: “Are you following me?”  
  
“I’m a Shadowhunter, maybe I’m just doing my job.”  
  
“Which is? Being annoying? Harassing innocent Downworlders?”  
  
As she turns to look over her shoulder, she makes sure that Isabelle can see her roll her eyes. Isabelle just smiles at her.  
  
“That’s not really in our job description,” she says, “More like... protecting this world from demons.”  
  
There are a lot of ways Maia could respond to that. She wants to laugh, or snap at her. Say something about how she can screw her job description, that Shadowhunters have done a lot of shitty things to Downworlders, that they’re all a bunch of self-righteous, bigoted assholes.  
  
But it’s not Isabelle she’s angry at. It’s not even Shadowhunters specifically right now. She’s just keyed up, and mentally kind of exhausted. And she’s been working on not losing her temper so much, so she doesn’t say any of those things. If it had been Clary, or Jace, or some other Shadowhunter, she might have done.  
  
Isabelle, though... she’s different. Maia doesn’t really want to unpack that right now.  
  
What she says is: “I don’t need protecting. I can look after myself.”  
  
“I know you can.”  
  
The other girl is walking alongside her now, their footsteps almost in sync. Maia thinks she can smell her perfume somewhere through the general smell of the city; something sweet and a little like citrus through all the scents of petrol and earth and metal and people.  
  
Neither of them say anything for a while. Together they head towards busier streets, the night lit by passing cars and the warmth of restaurant windows. It isn’t until they’re outside a fast food place and she can vividly smell the fries that she realises how hungry she is.  
  
“If you’re gonna be annoying and follow me around, the least you can do is buy me dinner,” she says.  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Isabelle has her hands on her hips and her head cocked to the side. Her smile is mischievous. Maia doesn’t know whether to laugh and blow the moment off, or accuse her of taking the piss. Before she can do anything, however, Isabelle is sauntering past her and pushing open the doors. It takes her a few moments, but Maia follows.  
  
The restaurant is small, the floors look like they haven’t seen a mop in a while, and one of the lights in the corner is flickering. But, god, does the food smell good. She would say Isabelle looks out of place there, with her glamorous hair and makeup, her towering heels, her short plum-coloured dress. She looks like she should be at an exclusive club, not in some questionable fast food joint. But Isabelle walks up to the counter in the same way that she walks everywhere: like she owns the place.  
  
They order, and Isabelle pulls a card out from some inside pocket of her leather jacket. She throws a smirk over her shoulder, as if daring Maia to protest. And she wants to protest. She doesn’t like to owe people. But she had made the suggestion in the first place, however flippant, and Isabelle had agreed. She can’t back down. So she just raises her chin defiantly and stares back. The food is paid for.  
  
Whilst the teenage girl who served them is preparing their drinks, Isabelle leans her hip against the counter and looks around the place. It’s not that busy, maybe about ten other people, and Maia watches as her interested gaze flickers over all of them. She wonders if it’s a Shadowhunter thing; if they are always so aware of their surroundings and always sussing out potential threats. She has been subject to that particular look many a time.  
  
But when Isabelle looks back at her, it’s not like that. One corner of her mouth is quirked up, and she looks relaxed. Like they’re just two friends getting food together. Are they friends? Does Maia want to be friends with Isabelle Lightwood?  
  
She takes her milkshake and checks her phone. Luke has sent her a brief message: _All good. Thanks for your help today._  
  
Isabelle has started tapping away on her own phone. Her nails are painted a nude colour that looks like it was probably expensive. There are red lipstick stains on the straw of her coke. Maia makes herself look away.  
  
They sit on stools at the long table in front of the windows, where they can look out at the world beyond. You can’t make awkward conversation with someone you don’t know that well when you’re shovelling fries into your face, so that is what Maia does. Isabelle, however, has different ideas.  
  
“Tell me about your marine biology,” she says, through a mouthful of fried chicken.  
  
“... How do you know about that?”  
  
“Simon told me.”  
  
“You were talking about me with Simon?”  
  
“Maybe.” There’s a playful lilt to her voice.  
  
Had she been asking Simon about her? What had they been saying? She’s not sure if that makes her feel uneasy or not. It certainly makes her feel something.  
  
“What do you want to know?”  
  
“Have you dissected anything?” Isabelle asks, looking much too interested in the idea.  
  
“Not since I was in school. I study online. But if I get into a university programme then probably, yeah. Why?”  
  
“I’m a forensic pathologist. I’ve dissected a lot of stuff.”  
  
“Oh yeah? I never knew that.”  
  
Isabelle breathes out a slight laugh and brushes her hair back over her shoulder. “There’s a lot of things you probably don’t know about me,” she says, and then she looks Maia over with a grin.  
  
And she is sure Isabelle’s gaze lingers on the rips of her jeans, on the bared skin of her thighs.  
  
Unbidden, her mouth curves into a smile. She hides it behind her burger and turns to watch a cyclist go past the window.  
  
“So what does a Shadowhunter pathologist do then?”  
  
Isabelle tells her about studying the effects of demon ichor and venom. In turn, Maia tells her what it’s like to study for college, and what she’s been learning about the nervous systems of jellyfish, and how they’re not even technically fish. They debate the similarities between the exoskeletons of crustaceans and some particular species of demon – a conversation topic so wildly removed from anything Maia ever thought she would experience in her life.  
  
But it feels normal. She is relaxed enough to start making snarky jokes, and Isabelle is laughing at them. They eat, and they talk, and when their food is gone they keep talking.  
  
The restless aching under her skin has fizzled out before she’s realised. She no longer wants to lash out. All of her agitated energy has burnt itself down somewhere between Isabelle stealing some of her fries with a cheeky wink, and them cracking up at some embarrassing story about a younger Jace. Her feelings have settled into a contented warmth in her stomach. It’s good. She’s good.  
  
And Isabelle – Izzy – is good too. She’s witty, and she’s bold, and there’s something about the way she smiles when she speaks of her brothers.  
  
And she’s _nice_. Maybe Maia hadn’t liked her so much when they’d first met, and not just because she’s a Shadowhunter. She had prejudged her and mistrusted her, but she’s never been good at making new friends.  
  
Now though, without even realising until it had already happened, she’s been enjoying her time with this girl more than she ever thought she would. That morning, regretting her lack of sleep and downing a coffee in the passenger seat of Luke’s car, she would not have expected to be here tonight; talking and giggling in some crappy restaurant with Isabelle Lightwood, and wondering where they would be going afterwards. Both literally and figuratively.  
  
But here she is. And Izzy is fun, and interesting, and clever, and _so fucking gorgeous_.  
  
And maybe Maia has a bit of a crush.  
  
And maybe it has seemed like Izzy has checked her out occasionally, and like some of the things she says are pretty flirtatious. But that doesn’t mean she would even be interested.  
  
And maybe Maia doesn’t know where to go with this now.  
  
“Shall we get out of here?” Izzy asks.  
  
She is leaning towards Maia with her chin resting on her hand, gazing up at her through her eyelashes. Just looking at her is creating a nervous fluttering in her stomach.  
  
It’s been a while since she’s felt like this.  
  
“Sure,” she replies with a shrug.  
  
Outside there is a chill breeze that is just slightly too cold to be comfortable, and Maia wishes she’d brought a jacket out with her today. She hesitates at the door, not sure what direction they’re heading in, if they’ll even be walking the same way. Is the buzzing tension that she feels between them - the ‘ _what now?_ ’ - as obvious to anyone else as it is to her?  
  
Seemingly unaffected by such uncertainty about their situation, Izzy smoothly links her arm through Maia’s and starts walking them down the street.  
  
“What are you doing?” she asks, and she cannot help the defensive, snappy tone that her voice takes. This doubt and nervousness really puts her on edge and her natural disposition is to fight it, she knows this about herself.  
  
“Walking with you.” Izzy is unfazed, letting out a breezy laugh.  
  
“Wow, I would never have realised.”  
  
“You know, you’d really get along so well with my brother,” Izzy teases, “That’s exactly what he’d say.”  
  
“I’m hoping you mean Alec and not Jace, because one of them I like, and one I do not.”  
  
“Do I need to remind you that you and Jace hooked up one time?”  
  
“Please don’t.” Maia doesn’t need to look to know that Izzy is grinning mischievously at her as she gives her arm a squeeze.  
  
Somehow her facial muscles are disobeying her brain, and she’s smiling in return.  
  
“Come on,” Izzy says, drawing the words out in a sing-song way, “You must like him a little bit.”  
  
“You can dislike someone and still think they’re attractive,” Maia says.  
  
“What can I say, us Lightwoods are an attractive family,” Izzy says, with a smug little smirk and a flick of her hair.  
  
“Modest too,” she replies, making sure her voice is vicious in its sarcasm.  
  
She hates to admit how much she agrees with her though. Fucking Shadowhunters.  
  
“And do you dislike me?” Izzy asks, and then she’s leaning in until her chin is almost touching Maia’s shoulder. She’s so close that the scent of her perfume is all that Maia can smell for a moment, and all she can feel is her silky hair is brushing against her arm.  
  
“Mmm, you’re okay,” she says. She hopes her voice is as brusque and cool as she usually tries to sound.  
  
“I think you’re okay too,” Izzy teases, and squeezes her arm once more.  
  
Her fingers trail lightly along the inside of Maia’s elbow.  
  
And god damn she’s a goner already.  
  
A few years before, she’d had a girlfriend. Chloe. A werewolf from one of the smaller New York packs who came to the Jade Wolf sometimes. It hadn’t lasted that long – they just hadn’t worked out – but it had been Maia’s first relationship since being turned. Since Jordan.  
  
And it had been really nice. The first time in a long time that Maia had felt somewhat normal. Things had gotten so much better since Luke had taken her under his wing, and the pack were great at helping her adjust, but it was with Chloe that she had been able to _forget_ for the first time.  
  
Though maybe forget isn’t the right word. It was more like she was finally at peace with what she was. Because when you’re leaving a movie theatre, and the city lights are bright against the night sky, and you’re still giggling about what you saw, and there’s popcorn kernels stuck in your teeth, and a cute girl is holding your hand and then leaning in close and then kissing your cheek....  
  
That’s when you realise that maybe you _can_ be both normal and a werewolf.  
  
And now here she is, walking down the street after having just had fast food, and it’s a little cold, and someone is drunkenly singing up ahead, and a taxi driver is honking their horn repeatedly at someone, and there’s a pretty girl with an arm linked through hers and touching her skin gently. And she and the pretty girl are both decidedly not normal, but...  
  
She feels normal. She feels _good_.  
  
“This is nice,” Izzy says.  
  
“Yeah,” she breathes out in reply, and it feels a little like some of her anxiety and confusion escapes with her breath. She leans in closer to Izzy so their shoulders knock together, and their arms are squeezed tightly between them.  
  
The smile Izzy gives her makes a warm thrill sweep through her body.  
  
“So, where to now?”  
  
“You’re coming with me are you?” Maia asks. She doesn’t know what she wants the answer to be.  
  
“Well Alec would have gone to Magnus’, Jace is in Idris, Clary and Simon are out, and I figured I might as well do something fun.”  
  
“Glad to know I’m a great back up plan for you.”  
  
Izzy lets out a soft laugh, and then pokes her in the ribs playfully. “Next time I’ll make you my first plan.”  
  
They walk a little further, lapsing into a comfortable silence. Maia lets herself relax into the moment as much as she can. _Don’t think, just walk_ , she tells herself. They dodge around a couple arguing about paying for a taxi, and both try to hide their amused grins as they pass the person still drunkenly singing at the top of their voice.  
  
They reach the end of a street and come to a stop on the corner. Izzy drops her hand from Maia’s elbow and turns to face her.  
  
“So...”  
  
“So,” Maia repeats, crossing her arms over her chest.  
  
“Anywhere you wanted to go?”  
  
Izzy is looking up at her through her eyelashes, waiting for her answer. And she really doesn’t know what to say.  
  
“Had any exciting evening plans?” Izzy prompts her.  
  
“I had just planned on picking some things up from the store and then heading home,” she says honestly, “It’s been a long day.”  
  
“As long as the store has a candy section, that’s fine with me. My secret stash is running low.”  
  
“A secret stash, huh? I figured you Shadowhunters would have loads of strict rules about what you’re allowed to eat.”  
  
“Its fine, I make up for it by beating my brothers’ asses in training sessions.”  
  
“Of course you do,” she laughs, “Come on, this way.”  
  
She leads them to the left, in the direction of her home. There’s a bodega at the end of the street, which will be as good a stop as any.  
  
And she cannot stop her smile as Izzy links arms with her once again.  
  
Once they reach the brightly lit store, Izzy follows her inside and down one of the cramped aisles. A radio is playing somewhere, the sound muffled and a little static, and the man at the till glances at them briefly with a disinterested eye.  
  
“Are you gonna make me pay for your stuff here too?” Izzy says teasingly.  
  
“I didn’t make you,” Maia rolls her eyes, “And it’s fine, I can pay for my own tampons.”  
  
She grabs a box off the shelf and brandishes them at the other girl, who just grins at her like she’s having the time of her life.  
  
“You didn’t have to pay for the food anyway,” she mutters, because now she’s feeling a little affronted even if she knows Izzy is only joking.  
  
“You can pay for my food next time then,” Izzy replies, matter of fact.  
  
Maia looks at her, eyebrows raised. “Oh, can I?”  
  
“Uh huh.”  
  
“Okay then.”  
  
“It’s a date.”  
  
And with that Izzy winks at her, spins quickly but gracefully around, and disappears down the next aisle.  
  
Maia can only stand there, clutching the box of tampons to her chest and staring at the space she had occupied.  
  
And despite everything leading up to this moment – the flirting and the physical contact, how comfortable she has become with this dynamic they’ve built up – she is so, so nervous.  
  
She feels it now, the roiling in her stomach, her clammy palms. The excitement simmering beneath it, the way her lungs feel like they are expanding in her chest. Fucking hell, she has it bad. She likes Isabelle so much.  
  
She likes how easy it is to hang out with her, to talk to her. She likes how clever she is, and how sharp she can be. She likes how she has always made an effort to speak out for Downworlders, and try and do the right thing. She likes how she has a rebellious side. She likes how confident she is, how comfortable she is with herself. She likes how protective she is of her family and friends. She likes the way her perfume smells, the way her hips sway, the way she styles her hair, the shape of her lips, the curve of black runes against her skin.  
  
These feelings have been there for a while. She’s liked her for a while, underneath everything; a buzz whenever they’ve met that she has never fully allowed to settle, to take root. But now they’re here and it’s inescapable and it’s all she can think about.  
  
And maybe Izzy likes her too.  
  
The thought thrills and terrifies her with its possibility.  
  
She must stand there, frozen and lost for words, for longer than the mere seconds it feels like, because suddenly Izzy is appearing back round the corner, holding onto several bars of chocolate and candy.  
  
“I mean, not necessarily...” she starts, hesitating. “I just meant – you know.”  
  
It is maybe the first time Maia has ever heard her stumble over her words. She is biting her lip, and glancing up at her, and the look is less flirtatious and more nervous.  
  
She always thought Izzy would be much more confident about something like this. That she would continue to be so openly teasing, bluntly expressing her interest. Maybe she normally would be. Maybe these circumstances are different.  
  
Because Maia had always thought those things about herself too.  
  
Because maybe, just like her, Isabelle does not like to open herself up to vulnerability.  
  
And maybe they’re both going to have to stop dancing around each other.  
  
“What did you mean?” she asks. She steps closer to Izzy, feeling the corner of her mouth twitching up into a smile.  
  
“I think you know what I meant.”  
  
“Are you asking me on a date?”  
  
“I really like you, Maia,” Izzy says.  
  
She says it like a simple fact, her tone equal parts gentle and serious. She says it like a promise. She says it with a soft smile, with wide, beautiful eyes.  
  
She takes a breath, pulling the words up from deep inside her and then setting them free into the space between them: “I really like you too.”  
  
“And yes I am going to ask you on a date for real.”  
  
“You know, some may say that technically we’ve just been on a date,” Maia replies. “We got food together, which you paid for. We got to know each other better.”  
  
Izzy giggles lightly, shaking her head. “Well then. I look forward to our second date. But first I’m going to walk you home from our first date.”  
  
“Ooh what a gentleman you are.” And then she lets out a soft snort of a laugh that she’d normally be a little embarrassed by. But right now, she just doesn’t care about that. She feels like she’s floating several inches off the ground.  
  
Izzy sways towards her, nudging her shoulder playfully as they walk to the counter to pay for their items.  
  
And then they’re heading back out into the cool night air, the street stretching out from them in both directions. It is full of possibility.  
  
Maia turns to smile at Izzy, cocking her head in an unspoken question as the other girl once again links her arm through hers. It’s not yet midnight, and though she has definitely been awake for much too long, she doesn’t quite want the day to end. Not yet.  
  
“So...” Izzy murmurs softly, leaning in close against her side.  
  
“So,” she replies.  
  
They understand each other perfectly. She knows exactly what she means; both literally and figuratively. Where do we go from here?  
  
She’s not quite sure yet, but she knows it’s somewhere good.

 


End file.
